Chapter 191: Records of the 1st Irregular Meeting - 5
Chapter 191: Records of the 1st Irregular Meeting - 5
The next afternoon.
Narsha Russellarms had been lodged long-term at Waris's finest hotel.
The building was five stories tall—not especially high, but it sprawled wide horizontally.
Inside, the hotel held every sort of entertainment facility, designed so guests never wanted for diversion.
"Pretty comfortable life you're living."
Jiha arrived alone, just a hat pulled low as he approached the hotel entrance.
The escort guards posted at the entrance sharpened their gazes.
They scrutinized him, but Jiha ignored them and kept walking.
"Hold it, you."
The escort guards stood and blocked his way.
Narsha's hotel had escort guards on separate watch duty, a precaution against any trouble.
And here came Jiha, a total stranger and, at a glance, an obviously fit man.
Suspicious.
"Take off that thing covering your head. Let's see your face."
"What're you paying me?"
Jiha's flat question left the guards flabbergasted.
Five armed men right in front of him, and this guy had the gall to mouth off like that. Little wonder they didn't react immediately.
"Is this little bastard crazy...?"
"You're the one who's lost it. Trying to strip a man without paying? Man or woman, if you want to see someone undress, you fork over the money first."
Jiha smirked and shot his arm out.
"Ah, but actually, I probably don't need your money. Let's just settle with your body."
Jiha promptly seized the nearest man by the collar and slammed him to the floor.
Thud!
When he handled a giant over 190 centimeters like a pebble, the other four went pale.
The hat swayed with his movement, uncovering his face—as if he'd traded his body for the look, exactly as he'd said.
"S-Stop!"
At the shout, the others finally recognized him and hastily bowed.
All of them had watched Jiha's duel with Lungtao. They couldn't possibly not know him.
Even the one sprawled on the floor scrambled up and, unsteady, bowed.
"You've arrived, Lord Jiha!"
"......"
When he didn't reply, they shouted in unison.
"We've been awaiting you!"
"Hm......"
Escort guards were men who followed strength. Naturally, their hearts leaned toward Jiha, the one who'd beaten Lungtao.
'And with Lungtao gone, most of them would want to follow me. Rumor had it Lungtao acknowledged me as Narsha's Helper.'
The intel had come from Leticia, as she'd put it.
These men before him were a faction that wanted Jiha as their leader.
"How many of you are in this hotel?"
"About fifty."
"Isn't it sixty?"
"No, earlier they sent some out for the rotation, so..."
Watching them fumble their answers, Jiha tsked.
They revered strength, but clearly they'd never had real military training.
'Useful in one-on-one combat, but these guys have no experience in group warfare. Not that I'm surprised—it showed when we fought before.'
Jiha nodded and asked again.
"Among them, which one's planning to stop me?"
"Who would dare block your way, Lord Jiha?"
"Save the flattery for when the time and place are right. Alright?"
Jiha shut that down flat.
At his sharp reply, their faces went stiff.
"There's gotta be someone who looks at me like I'm some rock that rolled in from nowhere. I'm asking if he's inside."
"Ah, Sir Bran is......"
Jiha tsked.
"What a mess. You—follow me. The rest, hold your posts."
Jiha singled out the giant he'd thrown and stepped into the hotel.
The hotel staff startled when Jiha entered with an escort guard.
The guests chatting in the lounge looked noticeably displeased as well—catching sight of the guard following Jiha, they clearly took them for street toughs.
'Still don't know my face, I see......'
Under the banner of the Regulatory Committee, Jiha had brought Waris's armed forces to heel. But his influence hadn't yet reached the wealthy, the ones who put on airs.
They'd probably heard the name Jiha, but they still didn't know the face.
Jiha gave a derisive sniff and moved on.
"Which floor?"
"Top floor, the fifth."
"Lead."
He'd make it known soon enough.
The fact that acting too high and mighty earns you a broken nose.
Working his way up the stairs, Jiha tsked again.
The staircases weren't continuous—each floor-up required a walk from one end of the building to the other. A total waste of motion.
And Warsland had no elevators.
"Honestly, the elevator concept isn't even that complicated... it's just pulleys, right?"
But the real reason they hadn't built one was probably because it didn't suit the hotel's interior aesthetic.
Besides, the hotel's layout packed all auxiliary and leisure amenities on the first two floors; once you checked in, there was little reason to leave.
The man guiding him spoke cautiously.
"I've heard there's also a service where, for an extra fee, guests can be carried between floors by female celestials."
"So they set it up to drain more money out of people."
The hallway stretched on, its walls a flawless beige without a single blemish.
The doors that appeared at intervals were painted dazzling white, their nameplates trimmed with luxurious gold leaf.
Even the names were elegantly inscribed—which meant they replaced every nameplate whenever a guest changed.
"A strategic hub: the city saw high turnover and money to burn. This hotel—from this point on, it only takes long-term guests, right?"
"W-Well, I wouldn't really know......"
The big man guiding him clearly didn't have a clue.
Escort guards carrying swords bearing the hammer insignia all recognized Jiha, bowed their heads in greeting, and stepped aside. But his way was blocked on the fourth floor.
"Halt."
Bran, leading five men, stood in his path.
His face was so delicately pretty he looked nothing like a man. Jiha's brow furrowed.
"From here on......"
"If you block me, I throw you over?"
Jiha cut him off and pointed at the corridor railing.
Over that railing was a sheer drop to the first-floor lounge.
There was a safety net, and it wasn't a fatal height, so they might survive—but who'd actually want to test it?
The five flinched and started to step back, then checked for Bran's reaction.
The other escort guards watched with keen interest.
Bran led a faction separate from Lungtao's—roughly the Number Two among the escort guards.
Entrenched, but not popular.
And Bran had already clashed with Jiha once before.
Jiha scowled and stepped forward.
"Let's sort this out."
"Everyone, stand down."
Just as Jiha was about to make his move, Bran blurted out.
The five withdrew hastily, visibly relieved.
Jiha stared at him, and Bran spoke, agitated.
"From here, I'll guide you."
"If this is a trap, say so now."
"......It's not."
"You lie, you die?"
At Jiha's calm warning, Bran nodded.
Jiha gestured to the giant who'd guided him.
"Go back to your post."
"Yes, sir! Returning to post!"
Having just watched even Bran go quiet, the big man hastily bowed.
He'd scurry back and chatter about how Jiha had shut Bran down. Those still weighing whether to back Jiha as their next leader—as Escort Captain—would find their ears perking up.
Jiha mulled that over as he walked on.
On the stairs to the fifth floor, another man blocked him.
Getereu, a rat beastman.
"Lord Jiha, you've finally arrived."
"......"
Jiha stared hard at Getereu, who bowed obsequiously.
Bran glared at Getereu with disgust and snapped.
"Can't you get out of the way, Getereu?"
"I have something I wish to say to Lord Jiha, if I may. Privately, just the two of us."
Jiha glanced back at Bran and asked,
"Why'd you leave him alive?"
"Wh—what do you mean......?"
Bran didn't like Getereu either, that much was obvious, but he clearly didn't get why Jiha was saying this.
Jiha's voice turned cold.
"This rat bastard drove a wedge between Lungtao and Narsha. And on top of that, you were oblivious he'd slipped Lungtao drugged liquor before the decisive match?"
The man Getereu bribed to do it had been caught in Jiha's information network.
Lungtao had purged the drug with Mana, so it hadn't affected the duel.
But that didn't make it forgivable.
Fully exposed, Getereu panicked for an instant, then plastered on a smile.
"Ah, but all of that was because I held you in such admiration, Lord Jiha......"
"Stop barking."
Jiha cut him off and gave Bran an order.
"You handle it."
"What?"
"Handle that. You take care of it. Why would I pick up a guy who can't even clean up his own mess? What, you want me to change your diapers too? Hold your hand every time you need the bathroom?"
Jiha spoke in a low voice.
"Keep him alive and he'll stir up more trouble. You haven't noticed he's been quietly rallying Lungtao's old followers, splitting them while acting like he's in charge? After I've laid it out this clearly, if you still can't do a single thing, then you truly are useless."
"......"
"I gave you a chance. I'll grade you when I come back, so handle it on your own."
Leaving Bran, Jiha climbed the remaining stairs.
Getereu, utterly ignored, tried to wrench his sword free—then froze.
Jiha's cold gaze fell on him. Every beastman instinct screamed that drawing that blade meant death.
Dismissing Getereu entirely, Jiha ascended the stairs.
A noisy commotion erupted behind him, but that was for the men below to handle.
The fifth floor.
The entire floor was a single luxurious suite.
Two million a night just to sleep. Extravagance beyond extravagance.
Creak.
The door was unlocked.
Jiha entered without muffling his steps. Before him sprawled a wide living room; beyond it, an open bedroom.
One living room wall was entirely glass, overlooking the streets of Waris.
An opulent interior.
Jiha approached the open bedroom.
In stark contrast to the enormous bed—large enough for a dozen people to lie across—a small figure lay curled.
Light pink hair lay scattered.
"Narsha."
She didn't rise at Jiha's call.
Jiha rapped on the doorframe again.
"Narsha Russellarms."
Her form twitched, then raised its upper half.
Blinking pink eyes, she stared at Jiha as if she didn't recognize him at first.
A face heavy with sleep. The same face that always looked down so coldly on others now held no vitality.
Girlish fragility and piteousness touched it—the kind of face no man could speak harshly to.
"Have you eaten?"
Since Lungtao's death, Narsha had shut herself in, refused visitors, and eaten nothing.
Her gaunt face finally registered who he was.
"Get out."
Her tone dismissed him utterly. Jiha, of course, had no intention of complying.
"Let's eat. Come on."
"......I said get lost. Before I kill you."
Jiha's voice stayed calm.
"I'm using words for now, so why not listen? I'm making a pretty big concession."
"......You must have a death wish. Fine, I'll kill you."
"The one with a death wish is you."
Narsha's face, just as she went to rise, stiffened.
Jiha smiled and said,
"Locking yourself in your room and crying your eyes out—is that how a Unique acts? Think if you bawl hard enough, you'll drown in a sea of tears? If you're so set on dying, why not jump right now? Oh, but you're a Unique, so you wouldn't die from that, would you. Then ask me. Beg me for a favor, at least."
"What did you just......"
"This is only the beginning, so shut up and listen."
Jiha shot back.
"And tone down the whimpering. It's so pathetic I can barely stand to watch."
Crying wasn't going to earn her any comfort.
If he was going to take her in anyway, he'd do it his way.